Individuality
by WannabeMerman
Summary: In the aftermath of Unimatrix Zero, former drone, Ensign Amanda Lewis, fights to get her life, and Starfleet career, back on track. Rated T just because it's the Borg. Note: Nemesis never happened/will not happen. Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek.
1. Prologue: Fate Worse Than Death

They didn't stand a chance. What hope did one small survey ship have against something like that. They could only manage Warp 6 for heaven's sake.

Ensign Amanda Lewis was terrified, and cursing her bad luck. _"Of all the species we could have run into,"_ she thought, _"why did it have to be them? This is only my first assignment!"_

They all knew they wouldn't make it. The nearest backup was more than half an hour away, and shields were dropping power rapidly. "Aft shields are down," said Lieutenant Michaels. "Transports detected in rear decks. They're on board."

Amanda closed her eyes. No matter how many security teams the captain deployed, there was no hope now.

Within minutes the ship fell. They burst onto the bridge, ready for a fight. The phasers had no effect on them anymore.

One of them stopped in front of Amanda. _"David,"_ she thought. _"I just wish I could see David one last time."_ She screamed in pain as the tubes punctured her neck. Soon she would be worse than dead.

She fell, unconscious.

The person formerly known as Amanda opened her eyes. There were so many voices, all of them giving useful information or instructions. One voice, louder than the others, but still a whisper at the same time, spoke directly into her head: _"Your designation is Four of Ten."_

* * *

David 'Coffee King' Lewis owned a very popular coffee shop in the centre of San Francisco. He had just closed up for the day, and was heading home happily. It was only two minutes after he arrived home that there was a knock on his door.

When he opened the door, he became worried. Two members of Starfleet Security were standing there. "Can I help you?" he asked. He certainly couldn't remember doing anything wrong, so what was this about?

"David Lewis?" one of them asked.

He nodded.

"May we come in?"

"Er... sure." David led them inside. "What's this about?"

"We're sorry to tell you that we lost contact with your wife's ship about twelve hours ago."

David was shocked. Amanda was the best thing that ever happened to him, and now they'd lost contact with her. Still, it was only twelve hours. "There's still a chance, right?"

The two security officers looked at each other uncomfortably.

"What?" David asked, starting to get angry.

"It's just..." one of them started, "in their last transmission they were calling for backup. They said they couldn't hold out much longer, and when the backup arrived there was no sign of them."

"So, she's dead?"

They looked uncomfortable again.

"What are you not telling me?" he practically yelled at them.

They looked at each other, before finally telling him what was going on. "They were calling for help against a Borg cube."

* * *

David's next hour was spent on autopilot. Going through the motions, as though that would make this like any other day. Really, he just didn't want to think about the possibility of his wife being turned into one of those... those things. If it came to a choice... he would rather she be dead.

Amanda. Beautiful, sweet, kind Amanda. Replaced by an emotionless monster. It was just too much to handle. And in his heart, he knew that it had happened. She was worse than dead, and was calmly doing the same thing to others while he struggled to carry on.

He hadn't been happy with her taking a month-long assignment, so much so that they had got married just before she left to make him feel slightly better. If the two weeks so far that she had been away were hard for him, he was now looking at the rest of his life without her. He had no idea how he would cope. She had been a part of his life for three years, and he had hoped she would be forever. Now she was gone, and his dreams were shattered.


	2. Chapter 1: Return

_Three Years Later_

Four of Ten opened her eyes. Her regeneration cycle was complete. Orders flooded her mind. First on today's list was to help assimilate a starship. Their shields were collapsing as the order came in, and only seconds later she was standing on the other ship with thirty other drones.

Phaser shots came down the hallway, hitting and disabling two of them. _"Modulation pattern detected. Adapting,"_ came the voice in her head.

More shots came their way, and one simply bounced off her shield. It seemed that once again the power of the collective had proven its superiority over other races.

As one, they marched forward, and the security team fled. Four of Ten walked towards her assigned task: Taking engineering. This ship, a Federation vessel was in possession of a highly experimental warp drive, capable of sustaining warp 9.99 for long periods. The collective wanted it for themselves.

More phaser fire came her way as she walked into engineering. They had remodulated their frequencies, but she was not the first in. By the time they had brought down the two in front of her, the collective had adapted again.

There was a flaw in the design of the ship: there was only one way out of engineering. The engineers had nowhere to run. Four of Ten cornered the man she took to be the chief engineer. He would make a fine addition to the...

The collective, it was fading. _"Why?"_

* * *

_5 Seconds Earlier, Delta Quadrant_

Torres' assimilation tubules downloaded the virus into the collective. In seconds, the inhabitants of Unimatrix Zero would be free from the collective, and hopefully be able to do something to bring the Borg to their knees.

* * *

Chief engineer Stephen Ramsay knew he was going to die. The female drone, and her three surviving companions, had him cornered. The female reached out to hold him in place, other fist clenched where he knew the tubes would spring from. He waited for his inevitable fate. There was no pleading or bargaining with a Borg; if they got you, that was it.

The drone had stopped. Both of its hands flew to its head, as though it had a headache. It spoke, electronic noises in its female voice, mangled by a sub-vocal processor. "Our... design– NOOOOOO!" It suddenly yelled.

It turned around, grabbed one of the other drones, about to assimilate one of his assistants, and threw it at a third.

The fight was swift. One Borg, with the element of surprise, against three, who didn't know how to react to this sudden betrayal. Two of them died quickly. The third one was still moving limply, and the one which had turned picked him up off the ground. Looking it directly in the face, she spoke again, "I know you're listening, Queen of the Borg, consider this a declaration of war." Then she snapped its neck.

The only thing going through Ramsay's mind the whole time was, _"What?"_

The rest of the engineering team were staring at her. "I need to lock them out of the computer," she said. "Hurry, before they take the bridge."

Ramsay ran over to one of the consoles and started pressing buttons, to lock down the computer core, but this did not seem to please the rogue drone. "No time for that!" She practically barged him out of her way, and sent her assimilation tubules into the console. The console quickly started tuning black and green, before a clock appeared on it: 15:00, 14:59, 14:58...

"What's that counting down to?" he asked.

"Self-destruct. Hopefully it'll take a few of them out as well, they'll send backup to deal with me and the fact that they can't access the computer. My advice? Run. Are there any working shuttlecraft on board?"

"Two," he replied, and the drone quickly followed her own advice. It was very weird to watch a drone running, but he was in no doubt that he would be following her. He didn't want to be caught in a self-destructing starship, especially one filled with Borg. The other engineers were hot on his heels.

They didn't run into any other drones on their way to the shuttle bay. The collective was obviously so confident in their ability to catch everyone that they hadn't even left a guard.

The four engineers and one drone climbed into the nearest shuttle, and prepared to launch.

* * *

Amanda (she never wanted to hear the words Four of Ten again) immediately shoved her assimilation tubes into the main console of the shuttlecraft, despite several protests from the engineers. She quickly silenced them, by saying, "Do I need to remind you there's a Borg cube out there under the command of one seriously annoyed Queen. This thing can do, what, Warp 4? That won't cut it. We need better shields and transwarp, and that means I need to do this."

The nanoprobes would quickly construct a basic transwarp coil and upgrade the shields, but to stand any chance they would still have to go to transwarp the moment they left the shuttle bay.

The bay doors opened and they shot out at the highest speed safely possible, and immediately went into transwarp. The photon torpedo that had been fired towards them was too slow. They were away. She just hoped the Queen wouldn't decide they were important enough to follow.

It took a couple of minutes before one of the engineers plucked up the courage to ask what happened.

"Unimatrix Zero broke free from the collective, the Queen never saw it coming." At the puzzled looks, she added, "I'll explain later."

"Why are we dropping out of transwarp?" Ramsay asked.

"Let's see, we're in Federation space, running from the Borg," she replied, with a smirk. "What stands out more? A shuttlecraft running at Warp 4, with a mostly Federation signature, or a shuttle, moving at transwarp, clearly using Borg technology?"

"OK, I get your point, but can you at least do something to increase the speed? I don't fancy spending months out here."

"If I do much more, we'll look like a Borg vessel, and have both groups trying to blow us out of the sky. We have easily enough power, we have a replicator, and I can turn one of the seats into a makeshift regeneration alcove for myself. We can survive. If I boost our speed, we probably won't."

Her tone made it clear the argument was over.

* * *

_Eight months Later_

The journey had been long. A few days at high warp equated to eight months at the leisurely pace of Warp 4. They had made it to Earth's solar system without being stopped, but now Amanda was feeling nervous.

Unlike Seven of Nine, who had been externally disconnected, Amanda had been separated from the collective from within. That meant that her body hadn't rejected the implants, and she wouldn't be able to live without them. Of course, that meant that she would be trying to approach Earth while looking like a Borg. And that was _before_ they landed. Most people wouldn't take her appearance kindly.

It had taken a while for the engineering crew of the Cochrane, who she now knew were called Stephen Ramsay, Jonathan Caine, Victoria Johnson and Michael Jamieson, to trust her, but after eight months together, they had become quite close.

They would have to alert Starfleet Command to their arrival, and her... condition, soon, and they could only hope that the high ups would be prepared to listen.

* * *

Admiral Walker was in charge of Earth's space-dock, and was having a very boring day. Everything had been going smoothly, and while that was a good thing, he sometimes missed the thrill of commanding a starship.

Then he received a call from the head of security. "Mr Santos, what seems to be the problem?"

"A small shuttlecraft has requested admission, sir."

"That's nothing unusual, what's the problem?"

"They claim to be carrying four survivors from the Cochrane and one from the Hamilton. The Cochrane was attacked and destroyed by the Borg eight months ago; we found the wreckage. We had no reason to believe anyone escaped. The Hamilton disappeared nearly four years ago, no wreckage. We believed the entire crew was assimilated."

Now that was interesting. He needed something to distract himself, this would be perfect. "Would you hail them for me, please?"

"Certainly, sir."

He waited for the channel (voice only he noticed) to open. "Space-dock to unknown shuttle. This is Admiral Walker. Respond."

A female voice, with an electronic sounding edge to it replied. "All the way to the top, huh? This is Ensign Amanda Lewis of the Hamilton."

The Admiral checked to make sure the signal was clear. If the connection was as bad as it sounded, then it could easily drop out, despite this being very short range. It was perfect, so why did she sound so bad?

"So, Ensign, would you mind telling me where you've been for the past few years?"

"Um... Where should I start? Wait, I know. You're an Admiral, so you must have seen the reports Voyager has been sending back." Now he was confused, Voyager was still officially lost when the Hamilton disappeared. And the Ensign's voice was still off. She continued, "What do you know about the Unimatrix Zero incident?"

"Er... They helped free a group of..." he trailed off. That explained her voice only too well. He was speaking to a former Borg drone, with all of her implants still in place.

"Now you see why I went for voice only; I didn't want to scare your people into knocking me out of the sky."

"Well, I know now. I'd like to see who I'm dealing with, please."

The screen flickered to life, and he couldn't help but gasp. Borg had always been a threat in the past, now he was struggling to see past that. This woman had been through hell, and had come out irreparably damaged, and for all his knowledge of that, his initial reaction was still 'threat'."

She gave him a shy smile, "Yes, I know I look a mess, but I can't help it."

He laughed a little at that. At least she had a sense of humour about it.

He could see a few other people there, all human. He assumed this was the group of survivors from the Cochrane. "How did you end up with them?"

She suddenly looked very embarrassed. "I... might have been..." She paused and took a breath. "When the virus was uploaded I was helping assimilate their ship."

"So you then decided to save them."

"They were the only ones I could save. Without the element of surprise it would have been twenty against one, plus whatever backup the Queen sent after me. I set the ship to blow and we lit the hell out of there."

"I get the picture... Ensign. I'll call down and have them let you in, but I'm pretty sure my security chief will want to be waiting for you. Walker out."

He called back his head of security. "Commander Santos, I've followed up on it. Let them in."

"Are you sure? You know something's off about this."

"I've spoken to them. As my head of security, you read a lot of reports concerning the safety of this station. Ensign Lewis was involved in the Unimatrix Zero incident."

Santos' eyes widened. "She's Borg?"

"Was, Commander, was. However she may look."

"Still, I want a team standing by."

"I expected nothing less, Commander. Walker out."

* * *

Commander Santos and his team were understandably nervous about being asked to play nice with a Borg, even a former one. They had all fought them at least once, and most had lost friends to them.

The shuttlecraft had just docked, and the door would be opening any second. They tensed as it began to open.

Three men, one woman, and one female drone stepped out. It was not lost on any of the security team that the four humans had protectively surrounded the drone, in case someone tried to take a shot at her.

The message was clear.


	3. Chapter 2: Family

_Three Days Later_

David Lewis had had an exhausting day of work. The café had been mobbed for some reason, and it hadn't helped that his latest girlfriend had dumped him for using her as what she called 'an Amanda substitute', which, if he was being brutally honest, he was. She'd been dead for more than three years, and he still couldn't get past the shy smile she had given him when they first met. He remembered it as though it was yesterday. He had known for three and a half years that he would never see it again.

He slumped back on the sofa and turned on the news. The headline on his screen read, 'Freed Drone Returns Home'. There was a video of a female drone stepping out of a shuttle at Starfleet Headquarters. _"Ugh, Borg. They killed Amanda. I'll never forgive them. Still, if some are getting out, that's a good thing."_

The newsreader stated that Starfleet had refused to name the drone until her family had been told, before the clip cut to another angle, this time from the front. He watched detachedly as the drone smiled weakly at the camera, before keeping on walking. The camera cut away.

It took five whole seconds before he processed what he had seen. "Computer, pause. Rewind ten seconds and play."

The drone walked forward, and smiled weakly at the camera. "Computer, pause."

Amanda had been dead for more than three years, and he still couldn't get past the shy smile she had given him when they first met. He remembered it as though it was yesterday. He had known for three and a half years that he would never see it again, and yet there it was.

The mask he'd worn for nearly four years broke. David Lewis burst into tears.

* * *

Eddie Conner had been David's best friend for years. When he heard David had been dumped (again) he had decided he would try and distract him with a game of Velocity. He knew David would be taking it hard, especially given what the girl had apparently said to him. She was right, but David wouldn't want to admit that he still wasn't over his dead wife.

While he did expect him to be taking it hard, he did not expect to hear his friend bawling his eyes out behind closed doors. Realising that drastic action was needed, he pulled out his spare key (while it was only for emergencies, he figured this probably qualified) and let himself in.

He found his best friend on the floor in front of the sofa, a freeze frame of a Borg drone on the screen.

Three thoughts entered his head in quick succession.

First: _"'Freed Drone Returns Home'? Probably reminded him of Amanda."_

Second: _"Come to think of it, it does kind of look like her."_

Third: _"Oh. My. God."_

That explained the floor. He was sure that if he was put in the same situation, he'd have ended up in a very similar position. That said, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to help. He guessed he would just have to be there for him when he calmed down. Unfortunately he had no clue how long that was going to be.

It took the better part of an hour before David was capable of coherent speech. He was clearly exhausted from his breakdown. He looked up at his friend, and said three words, "It was her," before falling asleep.

Eddie carefully picked him up and carried him to his bed.

* * *

When the security officers arrived the next morning to tell David the news, they were slightly surprised to find out that he already knew. It made their jobs easier, but they were still a bit annoyed that the news coverage had made her so recognisable.

They did say that she was accepting visitors in the quarters she had been temporarily assigned at Starfleet Headquarters (David had got rid of her apartment after she 'died' because he couldn't handle the memories). David resolved that he would go as soon as possible. He had never gotten over her, and the opportunity was too good to miss, no matter what she looked like now.

* * *

Amanda sat in her temporary living room (equipped with her makeshift alcove from the shuttlecraft). She had seen the doctors, and all of them agreed that attempting to remove the implants could kill her. She had just told them to leave them, she'd dealt with them for eight months already.

She had a month's leave to deal with what happened, before she was going back to work. She still had no idea where she would be assigned.

She was nervous at that moment. Her parents and sister were going to stop by today, and she was worried that after three and a half years they wouldn't be the same people she had left behind.

"_Calm down,"_ she thought to herself. _"They're still your family. It'll be fine."_

The knock came, and she stood up and walked to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it.

There was a moment of hesitation before she was bowled over by her older sister. "Mandy!" she squealed as they tumbled to the floor. Amanda normally hated that nickname, but it felt good to have at least one thing stay the same.

"Yes, I'm pleased to see you too Rebecca, but if you keep squeezing me that hard I may be forced to squeeze back, and I'm pretty sure I'd win now."

"Eek," Rebecca squeaked, immediately loosening her hold. "Note to self: Don't wrestle a Borg."

"Good plan," Amanda said cheekily. "Wish I'd listened to that advice."

That single comment lightened the mood in the room significantly. Her parents sighed with relief that she was able to joke about what happened; she could have easily been depressed instead.

Her mother, Jane, finally spoke. "So how are you doing with all this, Amanda?"

"Not too badly. I've had eight months in a crowded shuttlecraft to come to terms with it. It's no big deal. Not that that stopped them from calling the Enterprise back so I can have some sessions with the best counsellor in the fleet, but I figure that's only to be expected, given what happened. It's due to arrive later today."

"They're sending you to Troi?"

"Well, I am only the third human ever to escape the collective. I actually think the first wants to meet and compare notes. Not that Picard was in as long as me. I can't even imagine what it must be like for Seven of Nine."

"Well I'm just glad that you didn't have to experience what she went through," Jane concluded.

Amanda nodded, before turning to her father. "Dad? You've been very quiet."

"I just can't help thinking that if I hadn't pushed you so hard, you wouldn't have ended up on that ship, and none of this would have happened," Robert replied, guilt evident in his tone.

Amanda rolled her eyes at him (or at least, she rolled the one eye that wasn't covered by an ocular implant at him). "Dad, I pushed myself that hard. Not pushing me would have made no difference. Zip. So stop blaming yourself for something that would have happened anyway. Besides, you can't change the past, at least, not without some serious screwing with the Temporal Prime Directive."

"I guess you're right," he sighed. "I just wish there was something I could do."

"There is: Relax," she said. "I don't want to have to worry about you too."

He chuckled. Amanda was pleased. Everything seemed to be moving back towards the way things were when she left. "How are your ships coming along, Dad?"

Robert worked for a shipbuilder out at Utopia Planetia, he had actually worked on the construction of Voyager. "Oh, not too badly," he replied. "I mean, none of them are on Voyager's level, but still, not bad."

Rebecca hissed at her, "Change the subject. Ever since they found that ship he's been boasting about it to anyone who'll listen."

Yep, that sounded like something he would do.

The conversation went on for an hour or so, in the usual, light-hearted banter she had enjoyed so much before. They were cut short by a message saying that the Enterprise had arrived, and several people wanted to meet her.


	4. Chapter 3: Counselling

Captain Jean Luc Picard was quite intrigued by the reports of this girl. Straight out of the academy, she had been assimilated by the Borg, and released by Voyager (the reputation of which was starting to rival the Enterprise's). She had spent three years as a drone, and then eight months with only four people for company. He was surprised she hadn't gone crazy. He had only spent a fraction of that time in the collective, and it had taken the support of all of his friends to get through. Yet here was this girl taking it all in her stride. He had to wonder if there was more to her than it seemed.

The girl, Amanda, beamed up, and he suppressed a laugh. She had attempted to stick a pip (since she was an Ensign) onto the neck of her Borg exoskeleton. It was hanging on limply at best.

"Captain Picard, I presume," she said.

"And you would be Amanda Lewis."

She nodded. "That's me." She hopped off the transporter pad and the pip fell.

Picard reached down and picked it up. "Not again," she moaned, as he handed it back to her. "That thing's fallen off three times already on my way here. I'm starting to think I should just wire in a little yellow light."

This time he did laugh. Normally he had a pretty dry sense of humour, but there was just something inherently funny about a Borg drone making fun of herself. Plus, it looked like the self-deprecation might be her coping mechanism, so he wasn't going to argue about it.

He led Amanda to Counsellor Troi's office, where she had an appointment. When he left her there, he was even more intrigued. He was no expert, but she did seem to be coping remarkably well. He would have to speak to Troi later.

* * *

Amanda thought Counsellor Troi was nice. On the other hand it was her job to make people feel like that so maybe that wasn't all that surprising.

The conversation moved gradually from normal topics on to how she was dealing with things. Amanda had to admit that Troi was good at her job. She hadn't really noticed the direction the conversation was going until they got there.

Troi had asked her how she was coping with her time in the collective.

"I just figure, the past is the past, I shouldn't worry about it. I can't change what happened, so why bother?"

The counsellor looked puzzled. "What?"

"Normally when someone tells me something like that, their emotions give away that they're lying, but you honestly believe that, don't you?"

"People actually try to lie to someone who can read emotions?" Amanda asked.

"Rarely. More often they're lying to themselves."

"Maybe I should attach a lie detector to this thing." Amanda gestured towards her exoskeleton.

Troi looked thoughtful for a moment. "That's the third time while we've been speaking that you've made a joke about your implants."

"So? They make good joke material. Plus, if anyone else told them, it would be considered bad taste. Someone has to do it."

"While there are only two other documented cases, in humans anyway, I'm not sure that finding Borg implants amusing is a common response. I imagine most people would get nightmares about such things."

"I guess that's one reason why regenerating is better than sleep. No nightmares. No dreams at all, actually, now Unimatrix Zero is gone."

Realisation dawned on Troi's face. "What?"

"I just realised why you're handling this so much better than the others. You were the only one who had any memories of Unimatrix Zero intact. You had a place where, every night, you were able to talk things over with other people going through the same thing. People who could understand what you were feeling and were able to help you through it. Your regeneration cycles were the equivalent of non-stop counselling sessions."

"Ugh, tricked into counselling by a programming error. Still, sounds like it worked. Come to think of it, I used to make Borg jokes back then, too. I got a bit of a reputation for black humour."

"From what I've seen, I think it used to be your coping mechanism, but it became a habit. A habit, I might add, that became a whole lot easier to indulge when you became able to make the jokes in your waking state."

The counsellor wrapped things up pretty quickly after that, and Amanda beamed back home.

* * *

"Counsellor, report," said Picard as he walked up behind her. He wanted to know if this young Ensign was stable, and if she was, he was thinking of offering her a position. "I'd like to know why she seems to be handling this so well."

"Captain, she has already had far more, and far better counselling than I could ever provide."

"When?"

"Every time she regenerated before Unimatrix Zero was shut down. She was spending eight hours a day with people who were suffering the same problem as her. I couldn't match that, short of being assimilated myself. And since she retained all her memories..."

Picard smiled. "Yes. I imagine that would help. Anything else?"

"She seems remarkably quick thinking. I suspect most of the Borg processors are still working for her. I actually think she might be a match for Data in some areas."

"Really?" Picard asked, very interested now. "Combining that with the knowledge she retained from the collective would make her very useful indeed." He had one last question. "Do you think she would be willing to do any more deep space missions after her first one went so wrong?"

"I'm afraid that's a question only she can answer, Jean Luc, but she hasn't left Starfleet. That alone should tell you something."


	5. Chapter 4: Reconnecting

Amanda headed into a workshop to actually do what she had suggested, since her ranking pip wasn't staying on at all.

As she was walking back, she decided there was something quite amusing about some of the looks she received. More than one person ducked into side corridors to avoid her, but she guessed that came with her appearance. Not many people would willingly get too close to a person who looked like a Borg drone.

On the other hand, she had just spotted someone she recognised. Jenny Cuthbert had been her best friend through her academy days. She was surprised to find her here, considering Jenny had been very vocal about wanting deep space assignments, but she guessed that losing your best friend to the Borg could change your perspective on something like that.

"Jenny," she said as she walked up to her.

With her voice being mangled by her implants, Jenny didn't immediately recognise her. She looked up, and saw who had spoken. "How..? How do you know my name?"

"Hard not to," Amanda smirked back. "Any good pranks in the works? You used to be the queen of pranks back at the Academy."

Jenny thought for a moment. Almost all of her Academy friends were still around. Of the ones that weren't, only one had been killed by the Borg. She looked up at the drone's face, trying to see past the implants which covered half of it, and found herself staring at the face of her best friend.

"A... Am... Amanda?"

"So you do remember me. Took you long enough."

Jenny was nervous about being so close to a drone, but it was also her best friend. She hugged her, finding herself looking at a row of four little lights on the collar of the exoskeleton. Only the one on the far right was on, and it took her a little while to work out why. "Are... Are those meant to be ranking pips?" she asked. "You didn't quit?"

"Quit? You know I'd go crazy if I couldn't go off planet," Amanda laughed, a very strange noise coming from a drone.

"Some would say you're already crazy for still wanting to."

Amanda shrugged. "I still have Voyager's virus in my systems. It's not like they can assimilate me again. I'm the safest person in the fleet."

"I guess, but I still can't imagine wanting to go back out there after what happened. I mean, it put me off space travel, and I wasn't even there."

"So what are you doing instead?"

"I was able to get a planet-side placement as an assistant to Admiral Paris."

Amanda noticed her friend's collar for the first time. "And you got a promotion with it," she noted.

Jenny looked down, "I'm not entirely sure I deserved it."

"Nonsense. You may have been the prank queen at the Academy, but you also worked harder than any of us. I can't see that having changed."

"Speaking of work, I need to get these to the Admiral. It's good to see you Amanda. I'll be seeing you."

* * *

Amanda arrived at back at her quarters to find a bouquet of Andorian roses sitting in front of her door. They were her favourites, but it took a couple of moments to work out who they were from. Her parents would have just brought them with them, and the only other person who knew both her preferences in flowers and her name was...

"_David."_

He had come by, and she hadn't been in. She sniffed the flowers for comfort, finding out that they didn't even smell like she remembered. _"Stupid Borg nose,"_ she thought, but it wasn't much compared to some of the things she had dealt with already. It was quickly replaced by the happiness that he had dropped by at all.

* * *

_Next Morning_

Amanda heard the knock on the door. She didn't know who it was, but she knew who she hoped it would be.

She opened it slowly. "David!" she practically shouted when she saw him.

"Er... Hi Amanda."

"_He sounds so sad,"_ Amanda thought. "What's wrong?"

"I... I'm just having difficulties adjusting to the fact that you're alive. I've lived the past three years knowing that you were dead, and now you aren't. It's not easy to take in."

"I know hard it must be. I'm still adjusting to being back home. Three years in the Borg, followed by eight months in a cramped shuttlecraft with only four people for company certainly took its toll. But I'm back now, and I'm moving past this little... hiccup in my life. It's in the past; I just need to move forward."

David smirked at that. "You always were good at putting things behind you. And you know that I never have been. I've spent three years trying to move on, like I knew you would have wanted, but I'm still getting dumped for, quote, 'using me as an Amanda substitute'."

"Aww. The Coffee King still cares," said Amanda, using the nickname she had given him when she had first walked into his café, more than six years earlier.

David laughed. "Low blow. Half the regulars still call me that, it's awful."

"How is everyone these days?"

"No major problems. Carrie's married and pregnant, Joe went back to the Academy, and Eddie... is still Eddie."

"The café's doing well, then?"

"Not badly at all. I'm going to have to head over there and open up soon, but I just thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing."

"I might drop in later, see what you're talking about for myself. I never thought I'd see Carrie get married. She used to be an absolute ice queen."

"Three and a half years is a long time," he replied. "I'd better be going. See you later."

"Bye." Amanda smiled as she closed the door. Things had changed between them, nothing could have stopped that, but after a few awkward moments, the conversation had started to feel more natural. She was going to march into that coffee shop and give him that same shy smile that he had latched onto at their first meeting. She was going to get things back to some form of normal between them if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

'The Coffee House' was as crowded as Amanda remembered it when she walked in. A sudden hush fell as she entered, no one quite knowing what to expect.

She walked through the silent room towards one of the few empty chairs, at one end of the counter, her usual seat. She was just about to pull it out when a familiar voice said, "I can't let you sit there." The whole room drew in a breath. "That seat's reserved for the memory of the owner's wife."

"Nice to see you too, Joe," she replied sarcastically as she pulled out the chair and sat down.

Joe followed up that comment by spitting the sip of coffee he had just taken all over the table. Amanda couldn't help but laugh. People actually did that in real life?

It took him a full ten seconds before he regained his composure, but he still wasn't able to keep the shock from his face. "Amanda Lewis?"

"You didn't think I'd let a little thing like being assimilated get between me and the best coffee in town, did you?"

Joe stared for a moment, before bursting out laughing. "So you're the reason the King's mood's been so erratic the past couple of days."

"It has?"

"Two days ago he was low, yesterday he was at rock bottom, yet today he seems positively chipper."

"That might have something to do with my giving him a swift kick up the backside in the area of putting stuff behind him. I'm something of an expert in the subject."

"So I see. Walking in here after all this time like nothing ever happened."

"It's in the past. Unless I break every rule in the book, I can't change it. There's no point in worrying about something that can't be changed, so I'm not worrying about it."

"I'm not sure I could do that," Joe admitted.

Amanda shook her head, before changing the subject. "I hear you're back in the Academy."

"Yeah. I found that there wasn't really that much else I wanted to do, so I got back to it. Wish I hadn't been so lazy first time around."

"So you're actually working at it this time."

"Came top of my piloting class last year. Didn't even come close to matching the records, but I did beat everyone else. First time I ever came top in anything."

Amanda was surprised. "Never would have pegged you as a pilot. I was thinking you'd go down the engineering route."

"No reason I can't dabble in engineering. The unrestricted versions of the reports say that's been happening on Voyager. Their pilot designed a shuttlecraft from scratch."

"Tom Paris, yes. I've done a lot of research on Voyager, given that they saved my life."

"They did?" Joe seemed surprised.

"They wrote the computer virus that disconnected me from the collective."

"Really? Is there anything they haven't done?"

"Yes," Amanda said quietly. "They haven't reached home."

* * *

Cassie Jones walked into 'The Coffee House', and was surprised to see the drone from the news sitting there, in Amanda's seat no less, talking to Joe. Joe was perfectly aware of the rules, so she was confused as to why she hadn't been told to move yet.

She came up behind him. "Joe, who's your friend, and why is she sitting in Amanda's seat?"

Joe and the drone looked at each other, struggling to keep a straight face. The drone failed first, and burst out laughing, immediately causing Joe to do the same.

"Was it something I said?"

They recovered after a few seconds, and Joe spoke with a smirk. "She's right you know. Only Amanda Lewis is allowed to sit there."

The drone seemed to find this highly amusing. "Fine. I will." She didn't move.

Cassie was about to say something about it when David came back out of the office. He would be able to deal with this.

To her surprise, David smiled. "I see you've reclaimed your old chair," he said.

"_Old chair?"_ she thought. _"But that's... No way."_

The drone, no, Amanda had clearly spotted her reaction. "Hi, Cassie."

"Just... how?"

"It's a long story."

"And you are going to tell me it. You're not getting out of this."

Amanda sighed. "Still just as stubborn as ever, I see. Fine, I'll tell you. But don't say I didn't warn you."


End file.
